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answer. He’d been such an ass, and she probably hated him now. Great. He'd have to call Layton when he got home. His brother always knew the answer to his problems.
    ****
    As Julia rode the elevator up, she smoothed out her jacket, checking her hair and makeup in the mirrored wall. Damn him. If Chase thought he was pulling this again, he was sorely mistaken. Just, seriously, who in the hell did he think he was? Like she was just his little plaything he could come on to whenever he wanted. Not. Happening. But damn it if she wasn’t attracted to him. Yet he made her so mad she couldn’t even see straight. Jeez. What was this, some sort of sick masochistic phase she was going through? Ugh.
    “ Hey, Allen!” she yelled as she walked into the apartment.
    “ How’d work go?”
    “ Fine!” Wow. He’d let it slide that she’d called him Allen. Hm.
    “ And that’s ‘Dad’ to you!”
    Of course. She rolled her eyes.
    “Can you come in here a minute?”
    Rolling her eyes again, she walked to his office then came up short as she entered, seeing a woman sitting at his desk as if they’d been having a meeting. “Oh! Hi,” she said .
    The woman appe ared to be older than Julia but was very attractive with long, black hair and big green eyes.
    “Julia, I’d like you to meet Maggie Devlin. Her father was a good friend of mine.”
    “Very nice meeting you,” Julia said, shaking the woman’s rigid hand.
    “A pleasure, I’m sure,” the woman replied.
    Huh. Had this Maggie chick just insulted her? Julia couldn’t quite tell. Whatever. She reminded her of her spoiled cousin Hadley who she couldn’t stand anyway. After that awesome little encounter, she excused herself. She showered then changed into a tank top and pj pants, heating up the lasagna that Peggy had made for dinner. As Julia waited for the lasagna to bake, she opened her laptop to check her email.
    ****
    Chase was pissed at himself, at the situation, so instead of waiting he called Layton on his way home. They usually talked to each other once a month or so just to check in, and though they’d just talked two weeks before, he needed Layton’s advice now. He would’ve talked to his brother Gunner, but Gun would’ve just given him the same advice that Brock had—fuck her then move on. Lay was the oldest, more career oriented, not still being led around by his dick, and he’d know how to help.
    “ What’s up, little bro?” Layton answered with a smile in his voice, which automatically made Chase feel better. He missed his older brother.
    Layton was a former Army Delta Force soldier who’d received an honorable discharge after being injured on a mission while serving in “parts unknown.” When he and their dad got to talking shop, Layton always teased Hank that while Delta did all the covert work (read as the real work), the SEALs took all the credit. There’d been some pretty tense moments over the years when Layton had been deployed, the family not knowing where he was or if he was okay since what he could tell them amounted to exactly jack shit, but the whole family had given a collective sigh of relief when he’d returned home, albeit injured. The bullet he’d taken in his left thigh from an enemy sniper had shattered his femur in three places, just short of nicking the femoral artery, and had led to an eighteen-hour surgery, a titanium rod and many screws being used to replace the bone. He’d had over a year of rehab, not to mention some killer scars. Layton downplayed everything, but he’d damn near died. If he’d been just two minutes away from the closest medic, he would’ve bled out and not lived to tell his story. But he had, and he’d persevered with the help of his family and now only walked with a slight limp.
    So while he was laid up, he’d written a movie script about his ordeal that’d gotten picked up by an agent and sold to a major movie production company. It was now in its pre-filming stages with producers being